Chapter 2

Two days have passed. Or three? Jean didn't care to count anymore.

There was nothing to do, and she had lost track of time. She sat on the kitchen counter, legs dangling, staring at the opposite wall. The coffee machine dripped its last drops of coffee into the mug.

The penthouse was quiet and impeccable. She had cleaned it twice already. She found a Rubik's Cube in one of the drawers and had been fiddling with it for hours, trying to solve it. A small challenge to keep her mind occupied.

She glanced at her phone instinctively.

"Of course there's no notifications," she thought. "There's no one to send them."

The TV had no internet to stream any music or shows. Thanks to her solar panels, she still had electricity for her appliances, especially her coffee machine. The last one in particular was important to her sanity.

Weirdly enough, she also had tap water. She didn't know how that was possible, but she wasn't going to question it for now. She jumped from her spot and took a sip of the coffee.

"Phew, at least some things never change."

Suddenly, and out of nowhere, a portal opened above her. It was dark and circular, looking like a silent whirlpool of energy about the size of an oven door. It hung on the ceiling, weird and otherworldly. Jean didn't turn around, still focused on her coffee mug.

And then something moved inside it.

A hand emerged.

Long. Smooth. Dark. It stretched as it emerged, fingers unfolding slowly but with precision, as if it knew exactly where it wanted to go. It was now inches away from Jean, closer, closer...

Jean turned her head.

"Sheesh, still can't knock on a fucking door, can you?" she complained, staring upward at the hand.

The hand flinched, changing course and reaching for the dinner table. It hovered above it for a moment, as if waiting for some obvious acknowledgment.

"Yes, I've already had breakfast, thanks. I'm not hungry," Jean said, trying to ignore the hand. But it didn't seem to care. It simply hovered, as if waiting for a response.

"I said I'm not hungry," Jean said, trying to shoo the hand away.

The fingers hesitated, even withdrew for a bit, but eventually stayed in place, as if a firm decision had been made. In a swift motion, they drew a circle on the table and another portal opened on its surface. The next moment, it was gone and something like a plate of food appeared in its place. It was human food.

"Sushi?" Jean exclaimed, staring at the plate, then at the hand.

She hesitated, eyeing the sushi with a mix of curiosity and reluctance. The hand withdrew slowly from the table, hovering in the air a few steps back, as if giving her space to decide.

"Sheesh, that's a first," she said, scratching her head. "You finally got something right, I guess."

The hand jiggled in the air, satisfied with her answer. Then in a swift motion, it reached for the trash bin and took out the trash bag. The hand and the trash bag disappeared into the portal and vanished.

"Jesus Christ!" Jean muttered, staring at the spot where the portal had been. The aroma of delicious sushi flooded her senses. "Unlike the stuff from the Chinese place next door, this one isn't made of imitation crab and cheap eel. This is the real deal!"

Another portal opened on the wall at the end of the room, and the hand reappeared, now holding a plate of cake. It was a slice of chocolate cake, with a glossy ganache on top and a cherry in the middle and... was that peanuts?

Jean was horrified and furiously pushed the plate away.

"I told you a million times, I'm fucking allergic to peanuts!" she yelled, staring at the cake. "Darn, this actually looks delicious. How can you do that to me?"

The hand paused, hovering in the air, as if considering her words. In the end, it simply left the cake on the table, in front of Jean, and withdrew back into the portal. It closed, leaving Jean alone with the plate of cake.

"Geez, at least bring me a cake without peanuts," Jean muttered under her breath, stuffing another roll of sushi in her mouth.

She was satisfied; her tummy was happy. She took the cake and remorsefully threw it in the trash bin. Then she took the empty plates and washed them in the sink. She stopped midway, staring at the sink.

"It makes no sense that I still have tap water. Something's fishy about this..." as she scrubbed the last remains of sushi from her plate.

She checked the cupboard under the sink, then the main pipes at the entrance of the apartment. She opened the cupboard and looked at the pipes. There were dark marks on them, and the area around them felt more humid.

"What the hell..." she wondered. "That wasn't here before, was it?"

She closed the cupboard and refused to think about it any further. It worked, that's all that mattered.

Still, having tap water was generous and very useful for cleaning, bathing, and everything else. And for drinking, obviously. The fact that she had no internet anymore and no signal—that was a bit of a problem. But at least she had electricity for her appliances.

Everywhere else, however, electricity was gone, including her building's elevator. That was a problem, because she was not going to use the stairs to go down 30 floors. Which was exactly the reason why she had never left her apartment since the event.

"I should take some fresh air at some point," she thought.

But she decided to just go out on her balcony and get fresh air from there. She noticed that the air was cleaner, less polluted than usual, perhaps because the factories were now closed and all the industries in the city were no longer active.

At least that was a good thing.

She glanced down. The artist—was he there on his balcony? He was painting. Three portals stood open around him, each exposing a hand that held multiple brushes. The neighbor was painting on his canvas, while the hands were adding finishing touches in the margins.

"They seem to be having fun."

But then one of the dark hands pointed upward, toward the sky. No, it pointed toward her!

The artist glanced up and looked at her. He smiled and waved.

Jean's face reddened and she withdrew from the balcony. She ran inside, throwing herself on the couch, her heart racing. She punched the cushions a few times before she calmed down.

"Darn you, alien hands! Now he'll think I'm some kind of weirdo!" she muttered, staring at the ceiling. "I hate you, all of you!"

She stood silently for a while, hands covering her face. Eventually, she jumped back up and went to the kitchen, trying to distract herself with some more coffee.

There were no beans left.

"Oh well," she sighed, staring at the empty container. "I guess I gotta go out and fetch some more."